


Well Aged

by Jo (jmathieson)



Series: Tangents and Intersections ~ Kink Bingo 2013 [96]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday Party, Community: kink_bingo, Definitely not AoS, Dressing, Historical Dress, Historical Roleplay, Jossed, M/M, Master/Servant, SHIELD Husbands, Service Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:47:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint throws Phil a party for his 50th birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well Aged

**Author's Note:**

> Kink Bingo Round Six (2013) ~ Class Fantasies

Clint had pulled off some elaborate plans in his time, but he was particularly proud of this one, even if he did have help. A lot of help. But it was Phil's 50th birthday, and he wanted to make it special and fun. He had decided on a historical theme and run the idea by Nat, who hadn't said it was stupid, so he'd gone ahead with it. He'd enlisted Jarvis and Pepper and Tony (after he got wind that something was up, and insisted on helping). 

The historical period was vaguely Edwardian, though Clint had made a point of telling everyone that this wasn't the SCA and the point was to dress up and have fun, rather than be completely historically accurate. It was, after all, a party. Tony had found them a suitably grand mansion to rent, and Pepper had taken care of organizing the catering. Clint's main job had been talking a couple of reluctant people into participating, including Phil himself.

"I don't need a big party," had been Phil's argument, "just because it's a round number."

"It won't be a big party," had been Clint's technically accurate answer, "It's just the team, Pepper, Fury, Jasper and Maria. Ten people is not a big party."

"You don't need to go to any trouble."

"I know I don't need to, but I want to. Besides, JARVIS is doing most of the work, and Pepper's handling almost everything he isn't - which is really just the food. Oh, and the costumes. Nat and Jasper are dealing with the costumes. C'mon, Phil, it's just a dinner party in a fancy house. It'll be fun. I promise."

Clint hadn't even been lying, much, when he said that JARVIS, Pepper, Nat, and Jasper were doing most of the work. Clint had pointed them in the right direction and let them run. Tony had shown them pictures of the house, Pepper had sent in a cleaning crew and hired the caterers, and Jasper and Nat had located a costume rental place and placed their order for period dress for everyone. The only glitch had been, apparently, that Cap's and Clint's suits were going to need to be custom-made, since the costume rental place didn't usually deal with customers who had unusually broad shoulders and large biceps. 

But the costume place had come through and Clint's outfit wasn't even all that uncomfortable, or maybe he was finally starting to get used to suit jackets. The outfits had helpfully come with diagrams and instructions explaining what all the various bits were for and how to put them on. Clint had passed on the sock suspenders and worn a pair of decidedly non-period socks. Elastic was such a wonderful invention.

He could see the advantages of the drawstring underwear, though, and was wearing that under the suit trousers. It felt weird and kinda kinky, and he'd been a little bit aroused ever since he put the entire outfit on, partly due to the clothes themselves, but more due to the fact that they designated his role in the evening's festivities.

He had cast Phil as the 'Lord of the Manor', and in keeping with the historical theme, had cast himself as the faithful manservant. Clint was very aware that he would be calling Phil 'sir' all evening, in front of other people. Friends, and team-mates, of course, but still. Between that and the funny underwear, he was afraid he might be walking around with a hard-on all night.

Nat and Jasper were rounding out the household staff, with Nat, under instructions from Pepper, managing the catering staff in her role as head of the kitchen staff, and Jasper as the Butler. Everyone else was coming as a dinner guest. 

Clint checked himself in the mirror one last time and stepped from the small ante-room (in reality a walk-in closet) which held a cot and a washstand, into the lord's bedchamber, otherwise known as Phil's room, which was opulently decorated in rich velvets with a four-poster bed and lots of heavy, antique furniture. Clint double-checked that Phil's dinner suit was hanging in the wardrobe where he had put it, and that everything else they might need was in place. He let himself out of the room and headed downstairs to check with Nat and Jasper. Phil was due any minute, and Clint would 'help' him change for dinner before his guests arrived.

Though he'd been tempted to go the whole nine yards with a horse and carriage, it hadn't really been feasible, and besides, Clint figured that Phil would enjoy driving Lola on his birthday. And maybe tomorrow, when they headed back to the tower together, they could make a little detour to a secluded bit of parkland that Clint had... researched.

Clint was about to start pacing the large mosaic-tiled front hallway when he heard a car engine and peeked out the window. Sure enough, he spotted Lola's gleaming red paintwork coming down the large wide curving drive.

"He's here!" Clint called through the dining room, where Jasper was laying out silverware. Jasper laid a salad fork in place and then grinned and wiped his hands. He took a pair of white gloves out of his waistcoat pocket and pulled them on, then joined Clint in the hall.

As befitting his higher status, Jasper the Butler was the first to welcome his 'master' home from his trip. Jasper couldn't keep the grin from his face as he bowed low over Phil's hand. Standing next to him, Clint felt suddenly nervous, worried that this might not work after all, but Phil was turning to him, so he bowed in turn.

"Welcome home sir, how was your journey?"

"Fine, thank you Clinton," Phil said.

That threw Clint for a minute, but Phil had already turned back to Jasper, and was asking about the preparations for his guests' arrival. Phil had obviously decided to play his role as 'Lord of the Manor,' and Clint just hoped he was enjoying himself, rather than putting up with it for his sake. He'd try to find a way to ask later, when they were alone. And speaking of being alone...

"Sir, would you like to change for dinner now?" Clint asked, and Phil turned back to him.

"Yes, Clinton, I'll be up in a moment."

Clint turned to hide his nervous grin and headed up to Phil's room. 

He was laying Phil's suit out on the bed when Phil came into the room, and he turned and stepped back, casting his eyes deferentially down. 

"Sir," he said quietly, waiting for instructions. Phil was stripping off his suit jacket and tie, and tossing them on one of the overstuffed armchairs in the room. He sat down in another one and said,

"My shoes."

"Sir?" Clint asked, glancing at the wardrobe where the shoes that went with Phil's outfit were sitting.

"Take them off for me, Clinton."

"Yes, sir." Clint said, and sank to his knees in front of Phil. 'Fuck, at this rate, we won't make it as far as dinner,' Clint thought, because he wanted nothing more than for Phil to grab him and throw him on the bed and fuck him. Or even better, for Phil to hold him by the back of the neck and order him to... well, to do just about anything, really, though having Phil's dick in his mouth was near the top of Clint's current list. 

Clint untied one shoe, eased it off, and put it aside. He was about to start on the next one when he felt Phil's hand in his hair. He looked up.

"Have I told you lately that you're very beautiful?"

"No... no sir, not lately, sir," Clint said truthfully. Phil usually used 'gorgeous,' rather than 'beautiful.'

Phil stroked his hand through Clint's hair again, and held his eyes. 

"You will do well tonight, serving me, in front of my guests. You'll do well and be rewarded for it afterwards."

"Sir..." Clint had to clear his throat and catch his breath. Phil had just told him that he'd be 'in character' with Clint all evening. It wouldn't be a scene, not exactly, but considering what they knew about each other, it would be close. Clint knew he was safe, though, that he could say 'no' or break character and Phil wouldn't fault him for it. Clint had, after all, set all this up for Phil's birthday, and cast himself in the role of manservant hoping for something exactly like this. He just hadn't expected Phil to be quite so into it. 

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir." Clint bent his head to untie Phil's second shoe, and then scooted back before standing, eyes down, and going to the bed to sort out the pieces of Phil's costume.

Clint helped Phil dress in all the 'bits,' sock suspenders included, though they both had a bit of a giggle over them as Clint strapped them around Phil's calves. Clint held the funny drawstring underwear as Phil stepped into it, adjusted the suspenders, and buttoned his waistcoat for him. He handed Phil an antique watch to tuck into his pocket and then picked up the Ascot. 

Clint had looked it up in advance on the Internet and learned how to tie one. He'd come a long way from the days when Nat or Phil had to tie his black tie for him when going to the funeral of a colleague. Clint took the opportunity to touch Phil's neck as he tied the piece of silk, stroking a finger along the underside of his jaw, and spending far too long adjusting the tie so it sat just right. Phil let him get away with it, though, and finally Clint stepped back.

"Thank you Clinton," Phil said gravely, and Clint's dick twitched in his funny underwear. He fought an urge to drop to his knees and beg to suck Phil off. Instead he turned back to the bed to retrieve the last piece, Phil's jacket, a dove-grey tail coat. He held it out for Phil to slip on, and then adjusted the set of the shoulders from the back before moving around to stand in front of Phil.

"How do I look?" Phil asked.

Clint took a step back to assess the outfit properly, and his mouth went dry. Phil looked... fucking amazing.

"You look very handsome, sir," Clint said, his eyes bright.

"Come here." 

Clint stepped closer, and Phil closed the gap between them. He put a warm, dry hand on the back of Clint's neck, just resting it there gently. 

"In case I forget to say it later, thank you for this."

"You're welcome, sir."

"Later," Phil increased the pressure on the back of Clint's neck just a little, but the message was clear, "whatever you want."

"No, sir," Clint said, "whatever you want."

Phil kissed him, hard. 

"Later," he promised again, and then released his hold on Clint's neck and stepped back, and back into character. 

"Go see if you're needed in the dining room."

"Yes, sir." Clint sketched a bow and left the room. As soon as he was out in the hallway he leaned against the wall and dragged in a couple of lungfuls of air, 'Way to go, Barton. Set up a fancy party for your husband's birthday and end up turning it into a scene without even trying.' Clint shook himself and headed downstairs, hoping that Jasper would have some mindless physical task that he could use to clear his head.

~~~~~~

The dinner was in full swing, and Clint was pleased with himself again. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely, wearing their period costumes with panache, and enjoying the ambiance of the country manor house and the food. He and Jasper were serving, because he had decided he didn't want the caterers in the house for any longer than absolutely necessary, and Nat had refused to. She was in the kitchen shuffling things in and out of warming ovens, while he and Jasper scurried back and forth through salad, soup, fish course, palate-cleanser, meat course, desert, and cheese-and-port. Clint cleared plates while Jasper poured wine. 

"If you'd like to bring your drinks through to the smoking room, I have some excellent cigars. Clinton, please bring the rest of the cheese in when you have a moment."

"Yes, sir," Clint said, carefully balancing a stack of fine china plates on his arm. He deposited them in the kitchen, where Nat was digging into a plate of baked mackerel with relish, a small tumbler of vodka at her elbow. 

"Everything going well out there?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's going great, everyone seems to be having a good time. Thanks for all your help."

"You're welcome. You should sit down and eat something. This fish is excellent, and the beef was good, too."

"I will, when I have a minute. Phil asked me to bring the cheese plates into the smoking room." 

"I’m sure he wouldn't mind of you sat down for five minutes to eat. In fact, he'd probably insist on it."

"Normally he would, yes. But it's OK, Nat, I want it this way. It's... something I'm doing for him, for his birthday."

"As long as you're happy."

"I'm good, Nat, really."

"Then go take the man his cheese."

Clint found Jasper in the smoking room with Phil and his 'guests,' lighting cigars for Nick and Tony. Clint unobtrusively opened the window nearest them a couple of inches, and got a subtle nod from Phil for it.

"Thank you Jasper, you're dismissed for the evening. If there's anything else we need, Clinton will see to it."

"Yes, sir. Thank you sir. Good evening, sir. Ladies, gentlemen." Grinning widely, Jasper bowed low to the group and left. Clint figured he was headed to the kitchen to scarf up leftovers and drink vodka with Nat. Clint took up a position against a wall by the door, where he could see Phil's chair, and stood, waiting and watching while the conversation flowed around him. 

It didn't take long for people to start yawning and making excuses to head up to their rooms. An hour later only Tony, Pepper, and Nick were still sitting with Phil, listening to Nick tell a story about one of Phil's early missions at SHIELD.

"... so he walks right up to the guy, the six-foot-six guy wearing but a nothing a bearskin and a carrying a TV, and he says, 'Excuse me, sir, but could you please tell me how to get to Albuquerque from here?' And the guy puts down the TV, and starts giving him directions. And so Phil here says, 'Just a minute, let me write that down,' and he asks the guy if he has a pen. Now the guy's wearing nothing but a bearskin, remember, but he pats where his pockets would be if he was wearing pants, and apologizes for not having a pen. So Phil here calls Jasper over, asking him for a pen. And so Phil and Jasper are standing in front of the guy, and Jasper reaches for a pen, and Phil reaches for a notebook - to write down the directions to Albuquerque, of course, and Jasper pulls out his sidearm and Phil pulls out his handcuffs, and the guy is on his face in the middle of the street before he realizes that Phil's not really interested in going to Albuquerque."

Pepper laughed, and Phil smiled, and Tony made a facial expression that Clint figured was enjoyment. 

Nick stood and stretched and said, "Well that's me done, Happy Birthday, Cheese. May I be around to wish you many, many more."

Nick nodded at Clint as he went out, and then Pepper was pulling Tony to his feet and telling him to say goodnight.

Phil got up to say 'goodnight' to Pepper, and Tony swept an exaggerated low bow, looking unfairly good as he did, thought Clint from his vantage point by the door. Pepper smiled at him as they left. Clint didn't move, though he did fix his eyes on Phil.

Phil hesitated for a minute, and then simply walked past Clint, saying, "Come with me," as he did.

Phil headed up to his room, and closed the heavy wood door behind them. Clint stood in the middle of the room, relaxed, hands behind his back, waiting for instructions. Phil turned to look at him, and stepped in close, but didn't touch him... yet. 

"You did very well tonight, Clinton."

"Thank you, sir."

"You enjoy serving me, don't you?"

"Yes, sir. Very much so."

"Good. I appreciate your service."

"That's... I'm glad, sir."

"Undress me."

"Yes, sir." Clint lifted the jacket off Phil's shoulders, put it on a hanger, and hung it in the wardrobe. The waistcoat was next, carefully folded and laid on a chair.

"Shoes, sir?" Clint asked, and Phil sat, as he had earlier, for Clint to untie his shoes. Clint went to his knees in front of Phil's chair, and untied his shoes with hands that were trembling slightly. As he slipped the second shoe off Phil's foot, and arranged it neatly to the side with its mate, he felt Phil's hand slip into his hair, and he sighed. 

"Tell me what you want, Clinton."

"I want whatever you want, sir," Clint answered, eyes down, not meeting Phil's.

Phil tightened his hand in Clint's hair and pulled his head up, forcing Clint to look him in the eye.

"I want you to tell me want you want."

"It's your birthday, sir. I want to make you happy. I want to give you whatever you want."

"I want you naked. Go get undressed in your room, then come back here."

"Yes, sir."

Clint stood and retreated to the small ante-room off Phil's bedroom. He took a steadying breath and then quickly stripped out of the historical costume, laying it on the cot that he wasn't planning on using for anything else tonight. He padded naked back into Phil's room. Phil had taken off his shirt and socks, but was still wearing the grey suit pants and presumably the drawstring underwear.

"Come here."

Clint stood in front of Phil, forcing himself not to tremble from the combination of nerves and anticipation he was feeling. Phil raised his hand but instead of putting it on the back of Clint's neck, as he expected, he slipped it into Clint's hair again, gripping lightly this time and drawing Clint in for a hard kiss. Phil pulled back from the kiss and looked into Clint's eyes. He slipped his hand from Clint's hair to the back of his neck, touching lightly for a minute, before gripping hard. 

Clint dropped to his knees. 

"Please, sir... please." Clint hardly knew what he was asking for, but he knew Phil would give it to him. Sure enough, Phil pulled Clint to him, guiding him with his hand still tight on the back of Clint's neck to rub his face into Phil's crotch. 

"I've been hard all night, watching you serve me, hearing you call me 'sir'," Phil said as Clint rubbed his face, cat-like over the hard length still hidden behind layers of wool and cotton. Phil unbuttoned the trousers with his free hand and pushed them down. Clint made an appreciative humming noise as he mouthed at the head of Phil's dick through the thick costume underwear, and Phil fumbled a little at the knot of the drawstring before getting it undone and pushing the drawers out of the way.

They both moaned as Clint took Phil's dick in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it first, and then slowly drawing the entire length into his mouth, until he was leaning his forehead against Phil's belly, and breathing shallowly through his nose. Phil moaned again as Clint swallowed around him, then started to bob his head. Phil tightened his grip on the back of Clint's neck.

"Don't," he said, "I don't want to come yet, I want to fuck you. I just want to feel this, first. I love how this feels."

Clint wrapped his arms around the back of Phil's thighs to hold him close and put his forehead back on Phil's belly. He wished he could tell Phil that he loved it too, but he was pretty sure Phil knew, in fact, he was pretty sure Phil had asked him for this precisely because he knew just how much Clint loved it. Clint closed his eyes and let himself drift in the taste and smell and feel of Phil. He lost all sense of time, so didn’t know if it had been minutes or hours when Phil squeezed the back of his neck and pulled back slightly. Clint swallowed one last time and backed off, looking up at Phil heavy-lidded.

"God you're so beautiful, Clint. So very beautiful," Phil had a hand on the side of his face and was stroking his cheek with one thumb. "Get up." 

Phil stepped out of his pants and underwear while Clint was climbing to his feet, and then led him to the bed. Clint opened a drawer and dropped a bottle of lube on the fancy embroidered coverlet. There was a joke about historical accuracy there somewhere, but Clint was feeling too soft and warm to joke - right now all he wanted was to feel Phil everywhere. 

Phil somehow seemed to know that because he draped his body across Clint's and started to touch and kiss him everywhere, murmuring "love you," and "so beautiful," and "you feel so good." Clint kissed and stroked whatever patches of Phil's skin were within easy reach as Phil moved, but apart from that Clint let himself drift again, until he felt slick fingers at his ass and sighed.

"Yes, Phil, sir, please. Want you. Want you so much."

Phil's mouth was occupied sucking a hickey into Clint's neck, so the only response Clint got was a moan and a twist of the fingers in his ass. Then Phil was above him and urging him into position and sliding in easily. 

Phil kissed him deeply and moved languidly, drawing out their pleasure with long slow thrusts. Clint's hands stroked up and down Phil's back, and Phil's mouth tasted and teased Clint's shoulders, throat and mouth. Eventually Phil started to stroke faster and harder. He shifted his weight to be able to get a hand between them to bring Clint off, and anchored his teeth in the thick muscle of Clint's shoulder. Clint threw his head back and keened at the combined sensations of the hard full thrusts in his ass, the long light strokes on his dick and the sharp bite on his shoulder, all of them combining to light up every nerve ending and wrap him in pleasure. 

Phil came gasping and brought Clint off with a few more quick strokes, before collapsing in a sweaty sticky mess on top of him. 

"Love you," Phil whispered as soon as he got his breath back, "thank you for my birthday party."

"You're welcome. Love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks always to my excellent editors t! and Shazrolane.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at: [Queen of Wands](http://jmathieson-fic.tumblr.com/)


End file.
